


Sunflower: A Mar Wars Story

by elle_reads



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Inspired by Twitter, Minor Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso, Miscommunication, My sweet baby Paige deserved better, Soft Ben Solo, Star Wars Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2020-10-06 16:22:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20509940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elle_reads/pseuds/elle_reads
Summary: Rey's friends are horrified to learn she's never seen Galaxy Wars, so they convince her to live tweet her reactions to it. She's shocked to learn the movie's star, Ben Solo, is following along.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vibeswithcisco](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vibeswithcisco/gifts).

> Initially inspired by [this prompt](https://twitter.com/reylo_prompts/status/1168854553657303041?s=21) from the evergreen [@reylo_prompts](https://twitter.com/reylo_prompts/) account, which was itself inspired by the woman who took the fandom by storm, a gift to us all, [@vibeswithcisco](https://twitter.com/vibeswithcisco/)

“I just don’t understand how you’ve never seen _Galaxy Wars!”_

It felt like she’d heard the same sentiment a million times, but when it came from Rose, Rey couldn’t be annoyed. Still, she appreciated the look of understanding Finn slanted her. It would have been nice not to be the only one experiencing the movies for the first time, but she couldn’t resent that Finn has seen _Galaxy Wars_ during the few good years he’d had, especially since most of his foster placements hadn’t been much better than hers. Whether or not they’d seen some movies ranked pretty low on the list of ‘normal’ experiences they’d missed out, anyway, but that wasn’t a topic she liked wasting time thinking about, and certainly not at the start of a long weekend she was determined to enjoy.

“Well, no time like the present to catch up, right?” Rey smiled as she shifted to make room for Rose on the couch.

Rose grinned. “Agreed! It’s too bad Paige can’t be here, though. We used to watch _Galaxy Wars_ together all the time growing up,” she said with a fond smile, before it slipped. “She’s going to be so sad to miss out on seeing you watch them for the first time.”

Rey suspected they were thinking the same thing; ever since she and Finn had met Rose—and by association, her older sister Paige—during their first week at university six years ago, it would have been unthinkable to have a movie night without all four of them present. It had been a few months since Paige finished med school and left to begin her residency in a hospital across the country, but Rose’s forlorn expression suggested Rey wasn’t the only one struggling with being left behind.

Finn took a break from inhaling popcorn. “Wait a second, I have a brilliant plan—Peanut, you’ve got to live tweet this for Paige!”

Rarely did Finn have a brilliant plan—he was more of an 'act first, figure out the plan later' person—but every once in a while, he came through. Rey responded with a grin. 

“Okay, I actually love that idea. I was thinking about texting her, but I know she’s on call this weekend and I didn’t want her to miss a message from Children’s because I was venting about space battles

“Which is exactly why you should tweet!” Finn replied. "That way, she can just catch up whenever she has downtime.”

It would probably annoy her other followers, but Rey figured they could mute her if they got annoyed. Besides, losing a few followers was more than worth it to feel like Paige was a part of the experience.

Plan in place, Finn cued up the first movie after a hushed, but heated discussion with Rose about which film they should start with. Since the movies were numbered, it wasn’t clear why there was any debate about which one should be first, but her friends' conversation kept them distracted long enough for Rey to get her fill of popcorn before Finn demolished it, so she didn’t question it.

Rey knew plenty of people who were obsessed with _Galaxy Wars,_ and even those who weren’t fanatical about them generally agreed that the films belonged on lists of the all-time greats, but she couldn’t help but think they had to be over-hyped, so her expectations were low. Still, she was looking forward to finally watching them; it would be nice to have one less thing that differentiated her from people who grew up in normal families.

From the moment she heard the opening notes and saw the screen crawl, though, she couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement. Rose and Finn were grinning ear-to-ear and kept shooting her glances to check her reactions. She didn’t expect anyone other than Paige, and maybe a few college friends, to read these tweets, which meant there wasn’t any point in trying to play it cool. Paige, at least, would be elated to see that Rey’s was hooked from the start, so she sent her first tweet in all caps: ITS FUCKING STARTING AND IDK IF I SHOULD SCREAM OR NOT.

Almost immediately, Finn looked up from his phone laughing. “Yes! We have a convert! Also, you clearly _ do _ know you should scream because tweeting in caps lock _ is _ screaming.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up. WHAT is that big ass white ship that looks like the mother fucking Titanic in space??!?!” Finn started to answer, but she shushed him and then they were off. Two hours later, Rey was crying, Rose was crying, and Finn was laughing at them, but she was pretty sure she saw tear tracks on his face, too.

“I just love them SO MUCH! I thought they were going to be fucking SQUISHED TO DEATH and now everything is beautiful. They are getting MEDALS, it’s what they DESERVE. Everyone is so happy, I’M so happy. Why have I never seen this before, how did I even live?!”

Rose looked at Finn, grinning. “I feel like a proud mama. Parenthood is wonderful! Her joy is my joy!” Then Rose suddenly sobered. “Oh god. No, no, no. I want to protect her from what’s coming! I know I can’t, I know she has to go through it herself, but this is going to be _ awful _ _ . _ Finn! What are we going to do? Parenthood is the _ worst!” _

Rey felt nervous. “Wait, what are you talking about? The Princess and the Space Quarterback HUGGED—that is next level shit! And my beautiful boy in that yellow jacket is a FUCKING LOOK!” She pointed to the paused screen as evidence. “Everyone is smiling and happy! What could you possibly need to protect me from?!”

Rose looked away and Finn’s eyes shifted nervously before he answered her. “Let’s just, uh, watch the next movie, huh, Peanut?”

He’d set it up too perfectly; Rey couldn’t resist the bait.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” she intoned.

Her friends both groaned, but Rose shot her a grin, too. “I knew you’d love it. I knew it, I knew it, I _ knew _ it.”

Finn seemed distracted, though. “Hey, Peanut, how many followers did you have before we started the movie?”

She laughed. “Like, 300. Why, am I down to you two and Paige now?”

“Uh, not exactly. Didn’t you see your notifications?”

She’d been so busy tweeting her reactions, barely keeping up with the pace of the film and her feelings, that she hadn’t, actually. But her follower count hadn’t dropped to three. It hadn’t dropped at all, in fact. Instead, it had tripled, and a lot of people had liked and retweeted her comments.

“Um, that’s nice, I guess? I didn’t think anyone would want to hear me yelling about _Galaxy Wars_ except you two and Paige.” All three of them were scrolling through her feed.

“Aww, people are being really sweet,” Rose chimed in. “And no one’s spoiling anything either! I love this fandom!” Rey saw Rose liking nearly every comment on her feed.

“I think you should turn notifications off, though,” Finn ventured. “Just in case. There are some major spoilers in this series, Peanut. It’s sort of a miracle that you’ve survived this long without knowing anything about _Galaxy Wars,_ and it would suck to have it ruined now.”

Rose’s forehead scrunched. “But what if Breathe Taker retweets you or something?,” she asked, using Rey’s nickname for the movie’s villain.

The blood drained from Rey’s face. “Oh my god, I’d be so embarrassed, Rose! But that would never happen, right? I mean, I’m making up names for the characters. I don’t know any of the actors’ names, so it’s not like they’re going to see tweets that don’t even mention them, right?”

Rose exchanged glances with Finn before responding. “Yeah, Rey, you’ll be fine. Don’t you want to watch the next movie?”

She did. She really, really did.

When Rose turned on her phone’s camera during a big fight scene, Rey should have suspected that something big was about to happen. But the tension was so high, she couldn’t spare any attention for her friend; she was too busy screaming at the hero to just SAY FUCKING UNCLE AND LEAVE and then suddenly HE LOST HIS FUCKING ARM?!? and she was still coping with that when BREATHE TAKER TURNED OUT TO BE HIS FATHER?!?! 

It was awful. Too awful to be true. Rey had to pause the movie. She screamed “NO” right along with her devastated hero, as if she expected it to change the events of a movie that was made before she was born, but how was she supposed to deal with this? Finn and Rose herded her back into her seat—at some point, she’d fallen off the couch, she realized—and somehow they finished out the movie, but ten minutes after the credits rolled, Rey was still in shock.

“His father? Breathe Taker is his father? Like, for real?”

Rose’s lip was trembling. “I’m so sorry, Rey, I don’t know what to tell you. Do you want to watch the next movie?”

“Do they fix everything?” she bawled.

Rose glanced at Finn, panic in her eyes. “Um.”

“Oh, God!” A fresh spate of tears fell down Rey’s face.

“We can take a break!” Rose’s assurances might have helped if she hadn’t sounded so panicked.

“But they took Han to that snot dude. I can’t leave him alone there...but I don’t think I can watch it by myself,” she sniffed. “Will you stay with me?”

“Of course! We can order dinner, too!” Rose was clearly relieved to have something to offer Rey, but Finn didn’t answer until Rose elbowed him.

“Yeah, of course, Peanut, we’re not gonna leave you.” He sounded distracted and was still focused on his phone. “But even if we did, you wouldn’t be watching alone. Do you know you have over 4,000 followers now?”

“What?!”

“So far, the comments are mostly good, but there are a few jerks who want to spoil the twists for you,” Finn said with a scowl. “Give me your phone and I’ll show you some of the best tweets.”

He filtered through her replies while Rose called in their dinner order and then rejoined them. It was honestly stunning, how lovely these commenters—nearly all of them perfect strangers—were. It wasn’t clear how they found her tweets, but so many of them were talking about how they grew up on _Galaxy Wars_ and how much fun it was to watch someone discover the movies for the first time. 

She’d thought that part of her would always long for the childhood she didn’t have, but she usually tried to focus more on what those circumstances gave her—things like resilience, determination, and gratitude for what she had. Those gifts had never seemed like the sort of things she could share with someone else—certainly not with thousands of strangers—but reading these comments, Rey felt, for the first time, that she’d turned her deprivation into a source of joy, for herself and for others.

She swallowed the lump in her throat that rose at that thought and wrapped an arm around each of her friends. “I know it’s silly—they’re just movies—but I’m really, really glad I get to share this with you.”

Rose dove in for a tight hug, while Finn gave her a soft smile and replied, “Yeah, I love you too, Peanut.”

The third movie was just as much of a rollercoaster ride as the first two—the Princess was his sister?!—but it ended happily, everything was great, and at the end, there was a new, gorgeous, long-haired man standing next to String Bean, and Finn promised they’d see more of him. Rose looked nervous about that, but honestly, everything about these movies was nerve-wracking, so Rey decided to ignore that look.

She was almost afraid to check her follower count at the end of the third movie. It was too strange, that something she’d started for Paige had caught the attention of so many people, but it helped that the vast majority of them were so positive and welcoming. Finn mentioned that wasn’t always the case in the _Galaxy Wars_ fandom, and he’d shown her a bunch of memes that referenced that fact, with people claiming @ReyofSunshine was bringing the fandom together. Still, she wasn’t prepared to learn she had over 10,000 followers. 

Paige’s call came at the perfect time. Paige talked the way Rey typed; she didn’t yell, but you could hear the caps lock of excitement in her voice. She was thrilled that Rey was loving _Galaxy Wars._ Rey put her on speaker so they could all share in Paige’s joy, and by the time Paige’s break was over, they’d decided to stay up for one more movie. Confusingly, the fourth movie they watched was actually Episode I of _Galaxy Wars,_ but her friends hadn’t steered her wrong yet, so she didn’t fight it.

In retrospect, it was the long hair tweet that started it. Maybe. Or maybe it was inevitable. After all, Rey planned to watch all eight movies, which meant that even if she hadn’t mentioned long hair then, she was going to tweet about the man she’d end up calling Breathe Taker 2.0 sooner or later. As it was, a few minutes into their fourth movie, she sent a tweet she thought was innocuous: I LOVE A MAN WITH LONG HAIR SIR WHO ARE YOU. It turned out that underneath the helmet he wore, Breathe Taker 2.0 had long hair too, and some folks following along were so eager to get her opinion of him that they decided her tweet was the opening they needed to ask her directly. It just so happened that one of the people who seemed very interested in her opinion of 2.0 was– well.

“Holy SHIT. STOP THE MOVIE.” 

“No, Finn! There’s a queen now! A fucking queen, I am _here_ for this. She’s so pretty. I love her, I want to protect her, I need to know everything about her.”

“Peanut, this is more important than the queen.”

Nothing was more important than the queen, how very dare he, and Rey could tell Rose was about to declare her undying loyalty to the queen as well, until Finn continued.

“Ben Solo just liked your thing about loving men with long hair and retweeted someone asking what you thought about Kylo Ren’s hair.”

Rose abandoned the queen’s defense squad, the traitor. “Holy shit, we are stopping the movie!”

It felt weird to say, but it was true, and Rey was ride or die for the queen, so she’d do what she had to to keep the show on the road. “We can’t stop, people are waiting for me to tweet!”

“Tell them you’re having internet issues,” Rose insisted. “Rey, this is big!”

On reflection, she realized that Rose would not sideline their queen for something minor. “Okay, fine," she groused, sending the tweet as directed, grumbling all the while. “Now, what’s the big deal?”

Finn and Rose exchanged glances and seemed to have a silent conversation. Finn, as always, broke first.

“Um, Peanut, Ben Solo is one of the actors—”

“Like, the main actor,” Rose broke in.

_ “One _ of the main actors,” Finn muttered.

Rose ignored him. “He plays Kylo Ren, and I know that name doesn’t mean anything to you yet, but he’s important. And Kylo has long hair,” Rose said with a meaningful look, “so Ben Solo liking your tweet about loving a man with long hair and then retweeting someone who quoted that and wondered what you’ll think of Kylo is...pretty flirty.” Rose grinned, but Rey didn’t.

“What? No! He can’t have meant anything by that, can he? Definitely not, right?” She looked to her friends for reassurance, but Finn just shrugged helplessly and Rose tapped away at her phone before turning it to Rey.

“Rey, _ this _ is the man who wants to know if you like his hair.” 

Rey felt lightheaded. She should have expected him to be gorgeous—he was a movie star, after all—but tall, dark, and handsome was her kryptonite, and just knowing that _ this _ man was aware of her existence was mortifying.

Finn clearly couldn’t help her, so she turned to the only voice of reason, albeit limited reason. “Rose, what do I do?”

“Keep being your adorable self, it’s clearly working.”

“Rose, no! I’m not trying to entice him! I’d just look pathetic! I need this to go away!” She could feel herself struggling to breathe normally. Rose was no help; at this point, she was effectively talking to herself. “Okay, alright, I’ll just stop tweeting.”

Finn shook his head. “You can’t do that, Peanut. People are already freaking out that he’s liking and retweeting this stuff. If you stop now, it’s going to seem like you hate him or something, and they’re just going to talk about it more.”

She felt squirming in the pit of her stomach.

Rose looked sympathetic now, rather than giddy. “Listen, Rey, it doesn’t have to be a big deal. Just don’t acknowledge it, keep doing what you’ve been doing, and the Ben Solo stuff will die down, alright?”

She nodded miserably. “Alright. I guess that’s my only option.”

Fortunately, she had the best possible distraction. Her faulty internet connection mysteriously “fixed,” they resumed the movie, met a precious baby boy who was seriously too pure for this world, and were off to the races, literally this time. She accidentally called the long-haired man ‘king’ in another tweet, but he was dying, so she figured it was fine. Ben Solo liked that tweet, too, and started following her, which wasn’t great, but her baby boy was the chosen one and they promised he’d be a Jedi, which _ was _ great. Everyone was happy again, so she decided to be happy too.

On Sunday morning of their long weekend, Rey woke up to 15,000 followers. In exchange for promising Finn and Rose not to check any notifications that they hadn’t pre-screened, they’d agreed to come over bright and early to continue their marathon of _Galaxy Wars._

The next film was the most romantic one yet. The queen and Baby Boy, now grown up, were so soft for each other and she was soft for them. When Baby Boy told his queen he couldn’t breathe at the thought of not being with her—like, fuck, she couldn’t breathe either, could Paige FedEx an inhaler or something? But it wasn’t all softness. They put Baby Boy through the wringer. His poor mother died in his arms and SHE NEVER GOT TO FINISH SAYING I LOVE YOU TO HIM, the queen fell and his mentor WOULD NOT LET THEM STOP TO GET HER, and HE LOST HIS GODDAMN ARM (what IS it with these movies and LOSING ARMS?!?)— but fortunately String Bean came in to KICK SOME FUCKING ASS and save the day and then THEY GOT MARRIED. After two hours of heart palpitations, i t was a relief to know that things ended happily for Baby Boy.

Or so she FUCKING THOUGHT. The third (sixth??) movie was the worst. The absolute fucking worst. Even after the credits rolled, she kept hoping that Finn or Rose would reassure her that the queen wasn’t actually dead and that Baby Boy was going to make it right, but they NEVER DID and she was a sobbing mess.

“I’m done, you guys. Everything hurts and I want to die.”

“Should I...should I tell your followers that? Because people are worried about you since you haven’t tweeted, Rey.”

“I don’t care, Rose, everything is ruined and nothing matters anymore!” 

Rey knew she was being dramatic, but it really felt like everything was ruined. Her poor sweet Baby Boy was never coming back, her beautiful queen was dead, and their children were going to grow up without their parents.

Finn was quiet but resolved. “I think we should eat—you know that always makes you feel better, Rey—and then I think we should keep watching.”

“Didn’t you hear me, Finn?! I’m done!”

“I heard you, Peanut, but you can’t stop at the lowest moment of the series. _Galaxy Wars_ is about hope. Have some hope.”

She sniffled and wiped her face. Finn did have a point; _Galaxy Wars_ was about persevering even—especially—when things looked grim. She loved the series even more than she hated it, and she had to keep faith. They ate and settled in for the seventh movie, their watch order and the films’ numbering finally synced up.

It felt dangerous, how immediately and deeply she loved that circle robot. So far, the robots had been threatened, but never truly harmed. After Episode III, though, nothing seemed safe. 

They had to fake Internet connection problems again so they could replay the first few minutes of the movie because Rose was hissing at her that the intimidating man in black was Ben Solo, and then both Rose and Finn were squealing over what they deemed the perfection of Hot Man Running, but finally they got back on track. Rey enjoyed Hot Man Running’s sass, but she couldn’t take her attention off of Breathe Taker 2.0. He had such a presence, but she was hesitant to say too much about him on Twitter for fear of sparking more drama. By now, a few other cast members had interacted with her, and so had the official _Galaxy Wars_ account, but by far the biggest spike in her notifications had come when Ben Solo reacted to her tweets. Still, she couldn’t constrain herself entirely. Breathe Taker 2.0’s lightsaber _was_ hot; there was just no pretending otherwise. But fuck it all if Ben Solo didn’t like that tweet, and every single other complimentary thing she said about his character.

She could have lived with that, though. She even could have lived with the people—the many, many people—who tweeted “Petition for Ben Solo to take Rey to the Episode IX premiere.” The problem was that he replied, “How amazing would that be?”

* * *

Poe loved this girl. At first, he thought she was scamming people. After all, who was completely unspoiled when it came to _Galaxy Wars_ after all these years? But he quickly realized her reactions weren’t faked. She was totally sincere and genuinely thrilled to be experiencing these movies, and it was so much fun to watch alongside her.

As a lifelong fan of _Galaxy Wars_ and Ben Solo’s manager, it had been a dream come true when his client accepted the role of Kylo Ren. He’d been warned that looking behind the scenes of his favorite series would ruin the magic for him, but it only made it better; so much attention, love, and care was put into the films, and _ he _ got to play a small part in it—even if that part mostly came down to coaxing, and sometimes dragging, Ben to the appearances that the studio demanded their star make. It wasn’t that Ben’s ego was too big to tolerate mixing with the commoners; it was the reverse, really—he didn’t feel comfortable being singled out and got incredibly anxious when the weight of so many eyes were on him. In Ben’s mind, there was a big difference between the attention focused on him on set, when people were looking at him because they needed to—to see if the lighting was right, if his costume needed an adjustment, if he was hitting his mark—and the scrutiny he was under everywhere else—interviews, red carpet events, conventions, even going for a run. It had been impossible not to feel sympathetic when Poe realized how genuine his client’s discomfort was. Ben was a good client and a good person, but he was terrible at being famous, so Poe did what he could to help him handle it. 

Managing Ben’s Twitter account for him was a small thing; it helped Ben seem engaged with his fans without actually subjecting him to the million-plus people who wanted to know every detail of his life, his thoughts, and his opinions, so it had been surprising to see Ben liking Rey’s posts. He couldn’t remember Ben ever using Twitter himself, although he had saved the credentials in Ben’s phone just in case his client was ever asked to pull up Twitter during an interview or something. But then, if anyone could entice Ben to interact, Poe supposed it would be this sweet girl. She really _ was _ bringing the entire _Galaxy Wars_ community together.

It was funny that he and Ben were liking all the same posts, but Poe had never shared the secret stan Twitter account he had for _Galaxy Wars_ with anyone, not even Ben, so it had to be coincidence. It was probably weird to keep it a secret from Ben—realistically, as Ben’s manager for so many years, they spent a lot of time with each other and not much with anyone else, so neither could claim to have a closer friend—but Poe had been paranoid about the account somehow going public and messing things up for Ben. After all, he hadn’t wanted anyone to think that Ben Solo’s manager liking a meme meant a particular ‘ship was going to become canon in Episode IX (even though it totally was).

Poe only realized his error when he replied to the tweet “Petition for Ben Solo to take Rey to the Episode IX premiere,” with “How amazing would that be?”—because it _ would _ be amazing, even though he knew Ben would never go for it—and Twitter went wild.

Despite his appeals to the Force, when he scrolled up, Poe saw exactly what he’d feared: he’d failed to log out of Ben’s account and into his own, which meant all of Twitter thought Ben had effectively invited Rey to be his date to the premiere. 

Ben was going to go Breathe Taker 3.0 on him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe confesses his misdeeds to Ben and the real Ben Solo stands up

Poe had all the subtlety of a screaming sarlacc—and god, Ben had been working on these _ Galaxy Wars _films for too long if that was the metaphor that came to mind. But really, from the moment his manager had asked if he could drop by, he knew something was wrong, and the longer it took Poe to spit it out, the more anxious Ben got. When Poe finally confessed what he’d done, it was somehow better—at least no one was in the hospital—and yet so much worse than what Ben’s imagination had conjured up.

“You’re telling me that there are people, a lot of people, who think I’ve invited this person to come with me to the premiere?” He heard the misery in his own voice. Good. He felt miserable. 

Poe nodded helplessly.

“And I’m going to have to, to do all that red carpet shit, the interviews and the photos and everything”–he felt the familiar anxiety rise up just listing the events–"which you know I can hardly get through as it is, Poe, with a total stranger next to me the whole time?” He’d like to argue he wasn’t wailing, but he wasn’t precisely _not _wailing, either. “They’ll be watching my every move, ready to tell the entire universe if I so much as twitch, and I just have to pretend I’m perfectly fine with it!?” He knew he was freaking out, but it felt justified. This was an unmitigated disaster. 

“It takes everything I have just to get through these things, and now I’m going to have someone glued to my side, asking me about what it was _really _like being on _ Galaxy Wars_, am I in love with the actress who plays Kira _even though she’s happily married. _” He knows the distaste is painted on his face. “Christ, if I chew gum, the whole world will probably know what flavor it is before I’ve even got the stick unwrapped.” It was too late to do anything about it, and tone carried as much resignation as unhappiness. “Fuck, Poe, what have you done?” 

His friend looked miserable. Ben wasn’t trying to make him feel bad, but he really didn’t know how he was going to get through this.

“I know I already said it, but Ben, I am so sorry.”

He ran a hand over his face before nodding. He knew Poe didn’t have bad intentions, and usually, his ‘act first, think later’ approach to life made him a good balance for Ben’s more cautious personality, but sometimes—well, sometimes, Ben wished he had a stun blaster of his own.

“Listen, Ben, a big part of what sucks about this is that the person’s a stranger, right?” Poe’s question carried a note of hopefulness. He didn’t wait for Ben’s reply, but then, he rarely did. “So what if you got to know them first? I could set up a phone call…”

Ben hated the idea. Why have more interaction with this person than he absolutely had to? But he thought of the other people who’d be affected by bringing a _ Galaxy Wars _fan behind the ropes. He’d seen the way some “fans” approached his female co-stars; he refused to be responsible for giving a potential stalker access to them. A phone call, as much as he dreaded the idea, would give him an opportunity to vet this Ray fellow. He made a mental note to have Poe run a background check on the guy, too, if the phone call didn’t raise any obvious red flags. Poe already felt guilty enough about his misstep, though, so Ben held off bringing up the potential that Poe might have let an actual threat into their midst for the time being and just agreed to let his manager set up a call.

Sooner than he’d hoped, Poe texted him a number with a string of emojis, some of which made sense to him—crossed fingers, thumbs up—and some that didn’t—the sun, a plus symbol, wind, a clenched fist, and the number 3?

No better time than the present or at least, no worse, he thought as he dialed the number. A woman answered, and he apologized, explaining he was calling for Ray; Poe must have gotten the number wrong.

“No, you have the right number,” the lyrical British voice assured him.

He would have been annoyed at the thought that this Ray employed an assistant to field his calls—Ben was an actual celebrity, and he still answered his own phone, for god’s sake—but the woman had hardly said half a dozen words to him, and already Ben thought if he could pay her to speak to him, he would. He couldn’t really blame Ray for using the excuse of his newfound celebrity to keep her around.

Her next words caught him off guard. “This is Rey.”

Oh. _ Oh. _ Rey. Not Ray. Not short for Raymond. Perhaps Rachel? Reagan? Irena? The person he’d discussed with Poe—it was a _ girl _he’d heard so much about.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting–” _ you, _ he wanted to say, but stopped himself.

“The accent?” Her laugh was musical, and wasn’t that the most ridiculous thought he’d ever had? “That’s what the person who interviewed me for _ SyFy _just said. I guess it didn’t come across in the videos because I was pretty much wailing and sobbing the whole time.”

He thought he could hear the smile in her voice. Poe hadn’t mentioned videos, but now that he knew they existed, he wanted to watch them—though he couldn’t while they were talking, and he didn’t want Rey to ever stop talking to him.

“It’s really you, isn’t it?” she asked in a tone of wonder. “Unless you’re a great actor—I mean, you are, of course.” She thought he was great? She huffed, though he couldn’t tell whether it was in amusement, frustration, or a combination of both. “I’m sorry, it’s just really bizarre to be talking to you. Part of me thought those tweets were coming from someone pretending to be you until I heard your voice. The past few days have been really bizarre. People have been lovely—well, most of them have been—but the attention has become rather a lot. I don’t think I know which way is up half the time.”

He loved her vowels. Past. Bizarre. Half. He wanted, desperately, for her to keep talking, but she was clearly waiting for him to respond.

“Please don’t apologize, Rey. I’m the one who should be apologizing, really. Those messages probably made things worse for you.” He understood, now, why a fandom had united behind her in such a short time. He’d thought she would be intruding on his life, but now he genuinely felt bad for how the tweets from his account had impacted her life, and she had no way of knowing he wasn’t responsible for them.

“Oh, Ben, you have no idea how much trouble your tweets caused me!” He couldn’t explain the thrill he got from hearing her say his name. “It was like you saw a little ember and fanned the flames until it became a bonfire!” she laughs. “But I suppose I can’t be _too _upset. I’m sure you didn’t _ mean _ to set legions of your jealous fans on me.”

She was clearly teasing him, but he didn’t want her to be even a little angry with him. The intensity of some of his fans intimidated him, too. It was probably a cowardly thing to do, to throw Poe under the bus, but he needed Rey to know that he understood her, perhaps more than she might have expected.

“Rey, you should know—it wasn’t me. It was my manager. He was the one using my Twitter account, I mean. I wouldn’t have– I’m sorry, I _ do _ know how intense it can be, and if he’d asked me beforehand, I would have said no, but I’m glad it happened.”

He heard how selfish that sounded a moment too late.

“I’m not glad people are being rude to you, obviously,” he rushed to clarify, “and maybe I can ask them to stop.” On reflection, he worried doing that might hurt more than it would help, and in any case, this wasn’t the direction he meant to bring the conversation. Why couldn’t he have had a script for this? “I just mean that I get why Poe—my manager, I mean—was saying that you were such a good thing for _ Galaxy Wars, _ why all the fans really like you. And if you’re up for it, I really do think it would be great if you came with me to the premiere.” 

He kicked himself; could he have come any stronger? He basically told her that after talking to her for less than five minutes, he understood why thousands of people fell in love with her and by the way, would she please go on an incredibly high-profile date with him? The pressure on his chest built while he waited for her response. 

“Ben, before you called me, I was planning to tell you that it probably wasn’t a good idea. People are being...really intense about this. But I really did love the movies, so I guess if you think it would be good for _ Galaxy Wars _—”

He wasn’t entirely sure where she got the idea that going as his date would be good for the franchise, but he heard the hesitation in her voice, and he’d take whatever help he could get to convince her to go with him.

“Yes, Rey, absolutely,” imbuing his voice with as much conviction as possible.

“And you don’t think it will be odd for you, to be there with a total stranger?” she asked, still sounding uncertain.

That stupid phrase Poe always recited before approaching someone way out of his league flashed through his brain. _ Shoot your shot. _

“Well, yeah, that might be a little weird, but I’m pretty sure my schedule is going to take me through London before the premiere.” There, that sounded casual, didn’t it? His schedule definitely wasn’t taking him to London, but Poe would be more than happy to shuffle things around if Ben agreed to a couple of appearances.

“London? What does that have to do with– oh, you thought because– no, I’m actually in LA.”

It took a moment for him to process that she was here, in his city.

“That’s even better then! That will make it even easier!” He firmly instructed himself to tone it down. “If you’re up for it, I mean.” 

Remembering that he started the conversation wanting to ensure ‘Ray’ wasn’t a threat to women he worked with, he realized she might have similar qualms about him. “I’m sorry, I should have said– of course, I meant somewhere public, I hope I didn’t give you the wrong impression.”

“No, I understand,” she hesitated again. “I just want to make sure _you _don’t have the wrong idea about me. I’m not an actress or anything.”

It honestly hadn’t occurred to Ben that someone would pretend to have not seen _ Galaxy Wars _before—for what? Attention?—but Poe _had _thought of it and had assured him before their call that Rey wasn’t faking it. It was sweet of her to do the same.

“No, I know that, Rey.”

“Well, alright then. If you think it’s a good idea, then I’ll do it.”

* * *

“So, Rey, how did Ben Solo take getting rejected by a nobody?”

Finn asked with a smirk.

Rose scowled at him. “Finn, he called you a traitor because you were wearing your Storm Trooper cosplay and he saw you bought a Hot Man Running t-shirt. It was a _ joke _ and it happened at a convention _two years ago! _ You’ve got to get over it—schadenfreude is _ not _ a good look on anyone!” 

Rey bit her lip. “Right, about that. It probably _ would _ be good if you could get over it, Finn, because it turns out I _ am _ going to the premiere.”

Rose let out a noise that a long-extinct species of raptors might have recognized as signaling exultation. “WHAT!? YES. I AM SO GLAD YOU DIDN’T LET THE TROLLS WIN!”

“Yeah, well, when I talked to him, he kept going on about how it would be good for the brand if I went and I thought, you know what, I love these movies, I want to be there, and the freaking star of the sequel trilogy thinks it would be good for _ Galaxy Wars _ for me to be there, so I decided, fuck it, I’m going.”

Finn frowned. “So that’s why he asked you? For PR or whatever? That sucks.”

It did, a little bit, but it shouldn’t have surprised her. “Nah, it makes more sense than him genuinely wanting to hang out with an obsessed, brand-new fan. He does seem super into the PR stuff though. It wasn’t even him on Twitter, he has someone else dedicated to that, and he was really excited when I told him I live in LA. He wants us to meet up before the movie.” 

She tried to hide her discomfort, but she must not have been successful, because Rose asked, “What aren’t you saying, Rey?”

“I know it sounds unbelievable, but I got this weird feeling that he wants us to give people the impression that we’re on a real date?” The idea of it was so ridiculous, she was hesitant to even admit the thought of it, but Finn and Rose hadn’t laughed in her face, so she continued. “He was very clear that we’d be meeting up public, and the only explanation I can think of is that he wants us to be photographed. He said he didn’t want to give me the wrong impression...” she trailed off, uncertain.

Rose bristled at this and Finn jumped in. “Rey, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You don’t owe him anything.”

“No, I know that. Honestly, it’s not just for him, or for _ Galaxy Wars. _ I nearly passed up the opportunity to attend the premiere because people were being shitty to me online.” Just thinking about it made her sad; it was the opposite of who she wanted to be. “I hate that I almost let sad, jealous people steal that from me. But now I have an opportunity to make people think I went on an actual date with Ben Solo; can you imagine how jealous those trolls are going to be?” she asked with a satisfied smirk.

Rose cackled and even Finn had to grin.

“That’s my girl,” Rose crowed, “fueled by stubbornness!”

Rose might have been right, but stubbornness was good enough to keep Sunflower going all those years alone in the desert, so Rey figured it was good enough for her, too.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Ben meet in person

Rey was glad she’d found her resolve; even though they’d finished watching the movies and she wasn’t live tweeting anymore, she kept gaining followers, and with them, haters. Little did they know that everytime they sent her another petty, jealous, angry, and, most annoyingly,  repetitive message (seriously, was there some kind of group chat where they plotted how to harass her, not realizing that it meant she received ten identical copies of the same rant?),  she agreed to another interview, said yes to participating in a podcast, or simply retweeted someone celebrating her involvement in the community.

Then, a week after she watched her first  _ Galaxy Wars _ film, Rey prepared to meet Ben Solo at a cafe she assumed must be popular with paparazzi. He’d been eager to get it scheduled, which made sense; it was hard to believe that people were still following her; the likelihood they would still be around in a few weeks was non-existent.

Knowing that Ben planned their “date” for PR purposes, Rey put more time into preparing for it than any real date she’d ever gone on. Rose staunchly asserted that Rey would knock ‘em dead even if she showed up in pajamas, but Finn understood without her having to explain—the expense of a blowout and an outfit she felt confident in was worth every penny after a childhood of embarrassment over shabby secondhand clothes.

Before getting out of the car, she took a deep breath and drew her shoulders back. The likelihood she’d be photographed before the paparazzi realized she was with someone important was low, but she wasn’t going to take any chances. 

As she walked up to the restaurant, her eyes were immediately drawn to Ben; it was hard to imagine how any of the other patrons seated at the patio could focus on their meal when looking at him was an alternative. If she thought he was compelling in photos, it was nothing to the draw he exerted in person, and his appeal only ratcheted up in intensity when he caught sight of her, smiled, and stood up— and up, how tall was he? —to greet her.

* * *

Ben was totally fucked. In the video clips Rey had posted, her face was illuminated only by the light of the television, and she’d been crying. He’d thought she was beautiful then, but it was nothing to the sight that approached him. 

She was so small compared to him, and he felt the full force of his awkwardness as he loomed over her. It didn’t seem right to shake her hand when they were on a date, but it felt too forward to go in for a hug when he’d just met her. Thankfully, she saved him from having to make a decision by opting against either and simply pulling out her chair, though he realized belatedly that he should have been the one to do that, and that he hadn’t yet said a word to her. He wished desperately that he was better at this.

“Hi, I’m Ben.”

She laughed. Laughter could not sound like bells, he sternly reminded himself. “Yes, I gathered. I don’t typically approach men I don’t recognize and invite myself to their tables, Ben. But in case you introduced yourself because you’ve forgotten my name and need a reminder, I’m—”

“I couldn’t forget you, Rey.” She blushed, and he felt a thrill.  _ Had he somehow managed to say something right? _ But then her forehead crinkled, as if in confusion, and she glanced around. She took out her phone and focused her attention on it. Maybe he hadn’t said the right thing at all. Maybe he said something so wrong that she decided their date was over before it started, and she was calling a car. Before he fully worked himself into a panic, though, she slid her phone over to him, open to a note that read, “Do you think people are listening to us?”

Oh. That’s what had worried her. Perhaps she’d noticed someone eavesdropping? He’d chosen a restaurant off the beaten path, but there were no guarantees; her concern was valid. As much as he would have liked to reassure her, he wouldn’t give her an empty promise.

“It’s a possibility. Probably better to be safe than sorry.”

She nodded, as if she’d been expecting that answer. He wasn’t surprised; she’d seemed intelligent on the phone, and her tweets were witty. There was even something clever about her expression, as if she knew something other people didn’t. 

He realized, probably too late, that he’d been staring at her.

“So, um–” He should have thought of topics to talk about in advance. The only advice his brain provided was _play it cool,_ in a voice that sounded distressingly like his father’s, but, like his father, it gave him absolutely no useful information on how to carry that advice out. But he’d started a sentence; now he _had_ to say something. Anything would do. “–the, uh, the sandwiches here are good.” He tried to remember if they even served sandwiches here. Places like this always served sandwiches, right?

At his words, Rey’s face brightened. “Oh, good! I looked at the menu online and thought the BLT sounded good. I’ll have that, then.”

The depth of his relief, to have pleased her, or at least to have witnessed it, was drugging. She said she was looking forward to a sandwich, and he wanted to know if a bouquet of flowers would make her eyes light up, if she’d simply smile or sing along when a song she liked came on the radio, if she would shred gift wrap in her eagerness to open a present or carefully peel the tape apart to prolong the experience. Given the degree of his distraction, it was fortunate that Rey took initiative in leading the conversation.

He expected her to ask about filming — _ Galaxy Wars _ brought them together, after all — but she asked about Poe, how long they’d been working together, whether they got along. It was natural to ask about her friends in return, which turned into a discussion of how long each of them had lived in LA, the engineering program at USC that first brought her to the area, and the company she’d been with since graduating.

“ – I’m sorry,” she said with a rueful smile. “I know I get carried away talking about my work. It’s just, Jyn and Cassian are so great to work for, and it feels like I’m actually doing important work at Rogue One, but I’m probably boring you.”

“You are.” He shook his head, correcting himself. “Doing important work, I mean. Not, not boring me.” He could feel his face heating at his misstep, but he soldiered on. “I’ve never thought about what it would take to make medical equipment portable, or why that’s important in remote areas.” He didn’t bother trying to keep the awe from his voice. “It’s so impressive, what you do. Your family must be so proud.”

Her expression clouded for a moment so brief he would have missed it if his attention weren’t completed riveted by her, before it brightened again. “I don’t have parents, actually, but Finn and Rose and her sister Paige, they’re as good as family to me.” He couldn’t be sure, but he  _ did _ spend a lot of time with actors, and her smile seemed genuine. “And they are. Proud of me, I mean.” She laughed. “Obnoxiously so, really, but it’s nice. Everyone should have that.”

The look she gave him was everything he wanted to express and knew he’d failed to—warm, inviting, but without a demand. The opening was there, if he wanted to take it, but there wasn’t any pressure to do so. He wished he was as good at this as she was. 

He’d never found it so easy to talk to someone, but then, he’d never found himself captivated by a voice, addicted to a person’s glances, their laughter, their very presence. He found himself in the middle of explaining how his parents put him in theater classes when in elementary school—meant to help him overcome his overwhelming shyness, which hadn’t quite worked the way they’d expected, but it  _ had _ helped him find a place where he felt comfortable—before he thought to worry over whether these details would end up in the next issue of  _ People.  _

He didn’t know how to broach the topic, but he figured it was better to say something than to make assumptions and start their relationship—at least it seemed things were going well enough for her to say yes to a second date—with a misunderstanding.

“So, there’s not really a way to say this that isn’t awkward.” Well, it probably would have helped to not start by mentioning how awkward the topic was. “But if it gets out that you were here with me, you might be approached by”–they didn’t really deserve to be called reporters or journalists–“people who work for the gossip magazines. And, it’s up to you, obviously, what you want to say, but I would really appreciate it if you didn’t share any details?” 

Rey looked completely bewildered. It was clear then that she had no intention of sharing any of this. He’d probably offended her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t– I didn’t mean to imply that you would, it’s just, I really prefer to keep my private life private. I know not everyone feels the same way, there are plenty of people who like the attention.”

She looked taken aback. It occurred to him that maybe she’d been looking forward to that kind of attention; maybe it was even why she’d agreed to go out with him. She hadn’t seemed like the type, but if she was, he’d just insulted her.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that! Just, like I said, I’m not super comfortable with attention, so, I just, if you don’t mind, I mean, I’d rather–”

“No, Ben, it’s fine. I’m happy to do whatever yo u want, in terms of the publicity stuff, it just wasn’t what I was expecting.”

It was a relief to have confirmation that his impression of her was correct; she hadn’t agreed to the date because she wanted her photo splashed on the front page of a tabloid. He reminded himself that from her perspective, this whole thing started with him publicly inviting her to a red carpet event, so it was understandable that she would need time to adjust her ideas about what a relationship with him might look like.

“I don’t want to give you unrealistic expectations. Some things  _ are _ public, like the premiere, and some things become public even when you’re not planning for them to be, but there are a lot of things we could do where we wouldn’t be bothered.”

“Wait, what?” His anxiety spiked. He’d thought things were going well enough for her to consider seeing him again, but he hadn’t meant to imply that he expected it.

“I didn’t– I’m not assuming you’d want to see me again. It’s just, after all that talk about press, I wanted you to know that if you did say yes, we could find something to do that wouldn’t put you in front of photographers—aside from hiding out at this cafe, I mean.”

“Oh. You want to...get to know each other better? Before the premiere?”

There were  _ so many _ things he wanted from her, with her, but since it would be wildly inappropriate to say any of that, he settled for a simple, “Yes.”

His relief when she smiled at that was tempered when she told him she needed to leave, but when he glanced at his watch, more than three hours had passed. The bright smile she flashed him over her shoulder as she walked away from him helped counter the disappointment he felt at the fact that she was walking away. 

The moment she was out of sight, he pulled out his phone. 

“Poe, how do you spend my money when you don’t want people to know it’s  _ my _ money?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for your patience with this chapter! Chapter 4 just needs a final check for edits and Chapter 5 is outlined, so I don't anticipate delays like this one again!
> 
> I really appreciate those of you who flagged my attention to spelling / grammar mistakes; this work is un-beta'd, so if you catch anything like that, I would be ever-so-grateful if you'd let me know! A Twitter DM is the fastest way to reach me (I'm an addict), but I do treasure and (eventually) reply to every comment, so that works too!
> 
> Again, thank you so much for following along; it means the world to me as a new writer to know I'm not writing into the void!


	4. Chapter 4

Ben was a great actor. Rey knew that to be true. She still didn’t see how pretending to date her benefited him, but assuming there  _ was _ a benefit, it was true that it could only be had if people believed they were really dating. And it was true, too, that he couldn’t escape scrutiny; when she asked, he confirmed that there was a possibility they were being listened to at the cafe. Which meant that if she accepted that fake-dating her was a good PR move, or at least that Ben thought so, she could understand why he’d played the role of an interested suitor so convincingly at the cafe. Except his stories about being uncomfortable in the spotlight seemed so sincere, no photographers had shown up at the spot he’d chosen, and the next morning, she found a bouquet of flowers on her desk.

Embarrassingly enough, she recognized his handwriting on the note from an inscription on one of Rose’s  _ Galaxy Wars _ posters—something about his lettering must have seeped into her memory without conscious effort—but her mind was in such a muddle she couldn’t even figure out how he’d managed to get a personal note attached to the bouquet. Ben hadn’t signed his name to the note, which made her suspect that he wasn’t expecting the florist to tell the press, but if that was the case, she couldn’t understand why he’d send flowers in the first place. It seemed pointless, and her frustration at not being able to understand his angle only made it more difficult to stay calm when Cassian was a massive pain in the ass about the whole thing.

“Okay, take me through this again. I asked you this morning how your weekend was. You told me you didn’t do anything on Saturday, and on Sunday you went to brunch with a friend and then hiked with Rose and Finn. Already, this is highly suspicious, because we all know you don’t have any friends other than Rose and Finn besides Paige, who lives in Boston now. Related point, in the future, try not to forget that your bosses met while working for the CIA. If you’re going to lie to me, at least put some effort into it, okay? Otherwise, it’s just insulting.”

“Cassian, you did R&D for the agency, you weren’t James Bond,” she said with an eye roll.

“For the thousandth time, Bond is MI6, not CIA. Now stop trying to distract me, it won’t work,” he scowled. “As I was saying, I made the brilliant deduction that you were concealing something, so I asked you if it was a date, and what did you tell me?” he asked, smirking.

She knew ignoring him wouldn’t work, but answering him didn’t feel like the right move either. Unfortunately for her, where Cassian led, others were sure to follow. Baze was the first to join in.

“Hey bossman, I think I can help here. Pretty sure I heard her say they were ‘just hanging out’ and to ‘stop being a drama queen, Cassian.’”

Cassian gave him a brilliant smile, apparently not catching how much Baze enjoyed repeating Rey’s insult. “That  _ is _ what she said. And do you know what this note here says, Baze?”

“I do not.”

“It says, ‘I hope these flowers brighten your day like your presence brightened mine. When can I see you again?’ Now isn’t that the sweetest thing?”

Rey didn’t bother trying to bite back her growl. “I hate you both and if you don’t leave me alone, I’m calling Jyn.”

Cassian’s smile was triumphant. “I think if you were going to call her, you already would have, querida. But you know as well as I do that Jyn would be  _ very _ interested in this mystery date.”

She had hoped Cassian’s healthy fear of his wife’s temper would prevent him from reasoning that out, but she wasn’t out of options. “You’re not as clever as you think you are, Cassian.” She dialed an extension from memory, and moments later, her guest joined them.

“What was it you needed my help with, Rey?”

Cassian groaned. “Rey was just joking, K2. She–”

The reply was sharp. “Cassian, how many times have I asked you not to call me that?”

“Your given name is Kilsem el-Fof the Second. Calling you K2 is an act of love. Of generosity. Frankly, K2, I am offended that you would–”

“If you’re going to give me a nickname, you could call me Killer.” K2 insisted in an aggrieved tone. “That would be a cool nickname! Instead, you persist in using that–”

“Killer. Call  _ you _ Killer.” Cassian’s eyebrows were reaching towards his hairline, the picture of shock. 

If Rey hadn’t heard the two men reenact this argument roughly every other day since she’d started at Rogue One, Cassian’s expression might have convinced her that his brain was unable to cope with such a ridiculous proposition. She’d nearly spit out her tea the first time she’d heard K2 suggest it, but now, she could set her clock by their argument. Even if Cassian noticed her gathering her things, she’d have about three minutes to get settled in the lab before he’d be able to extricate himself from wrangling with K2 now. Fortunately, she only needed half that time, and without Cassian’s encouragement, Baze wasn’t committed enough to their harassment campaign to significantly slow her down.

She flicked on the “Testing in progress, do not enter” red light above the door to the lab with vicious satisfaction and didn’t emerge for the rest of the day. 

When she got home that night, she intended to ask Ben outright about the purpose behind the flowers, but he derailed her with questions of his own.

“Are they okay? I mean, do you like them? Sorry, it’s just– I mean, the only person I buy flowers for is my mother, which, wow, that sounds very cool.” He huffed a laugh at himself at that, and she couldn’t help but chuckle, too. “–but I’ve had a lot of time to find out what she likes, you know? And I don’t know what you like yet, so I just got what I thought looked nice, so I guess I’m just asking, what do you like?”

He sounded so genuinely uncertain; she couldn’t help but reassure him that she was happy with his choice.

“Yeah?”

From someone else, it would be a request, even a demand, for praise, but she thought she was starting to understand Ben. It occurred to her that his eagerness to please, even when the person in question was an absolute nobody like her, could easily be taken advantage of. She hoped Poe was usually more careful in introducing people to Ben than he had been with her. 

“Yeah.” She didn’t bother trying to hide the smile that he could probably hear in her voice. “Did you have them put in sunflowers because I used that nickname for Kira?”

“Oh, that would have been smart, huh? But no, I can’t take credit for that. They just...made me think of you?”

She couldn’t help but smile even more broadly at the question in his voice. 

“Well, that’s convenient. Sunflowers are my favorite.”

“Oh. Good. That’s good.” She heard a heavy exhale. “Did you, um, did you have a chance to think about my question?”

So it hadn’t been for show, then? That ‘ _ When can I see you again? _ ’ She felt the bizarre wish for one of those old-fashioned phones so she could toy with the cord. “I work a pretty typical nine to five schedule, unless Chirrut and K2 are both out, in which case I usually sneak in a couple extra hours in the lab. I’m sure your schedule is more demanding than mine.”

Surprisingly, it wasn’t; Ben told her press for Episode IX wouldn’t start for a little while, so he was in a bit of a lull. In what was becoming a pattern, they lost track of time as one topic led to another before remembering they were supposed to be making plans to meet up. 

Rey found herself agreeing to go over to Ben’s the next night for dinner and a movie; she rarely went out on a work night, but Ben was so enthusiastic about catching her up on other ‘classic’ movies she’d missed that she couldn’t tell him no. If she was honest with herself, she was looking forward to it, too, and she figured it couldn’t hurt to make a scheduling exception just this once.

* * *

Four nights into what Ben deemed Rey’s ‘ongoing cinematic education,’ they were curled up on his couch, watching one of those ‘so bad it’s good’ car chase movies that she unapologetically loved. Ben claimed to hate them, but when she’d spotted the DVD in his collection, he’d upended his carefully-planned cinematography syllabus so she could enjoy the implausible but glorious special effects on his HDTV in ear-shattering surround sound.

It was fortunate that the film’s plot was straightforward and she’d seen it a dozen times before, because her brain struggled to function when she was so close to him. She blamed her impaired cognitive capabilities for the thoughtless question she asked next. 

“Do you like to go fast?”

He had draped his arm around her a few minutes into the movie when he noticed that she was cold; it stayed loose, but she felt the rest of his body tense at her question. 

“I...I think fast is probably relative. The most important thing is that everyone in the car is comfortable with the speed, right?” He gave up any pretense of casual conversation to pull away and turn to face her. “Rey, I’d never want you to feel like we were going faster than you wanted and you couldn’t say something.”

When she’d asked the question, she hadn’t even thought about the accident that had been in the headlines barely a month ago, but of course, the director’s reported insistence that his stunt driver take the curve at increasingly higher speeds, resulting in a crash that the young actress in the passenger seat barely survived would have left an impression on Ben.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–” bring up such an awful topic, she wanted to say, but it was too late for that now. “I know you’d never pressure someone like that, Ben.”

“I’m really glad to hear you say that.” His relief was clear, but she could tell he had more to say. She kicked herself for ever bringing up the subject. “Rey, would it be alright if you, um, did the driving? Just for a little while? I think I’d feel a lot more comfortable if you were the one to–”

“Of course!” Ben used a car service most of the time, but it was the least she could do after bringing up such a morbid topic. The relief in his eyes solidified her conviction.

“Thank you.” He gave her a bashful smile. “Just, don’t feel like you need to go slow on my account, okay? I’ll be happy at whatever speed you choose.” The tips of his ears turned red at that; clearly, he wasn’t anxious about driving for his own sake, but at the thought that she’d be nervous as his passenger. “I’m just glad to be with you.”

Her traitorous heart leapt. She’d only known Ben for a short time, but it was enough to know that he didn’t understand the effect he could have.

Unlike him, she had what she considered a healthy self-esteem; she was happy with the way she looked, but she knew it really worked for some people and did nothing at all for others. From Ben’s behavior, she was starting to think he fell in the second crowd; he seemed eager for her company, and in the privacy of his home, he seemed comfortable with casual touches, but since it never went anywhere, she suspected it had more to do with his craving for human connection than with her in particular.

She refused to be a Nice Girl™ about it though, friendly to his face but privately resenting what she didn’t have. If he wanted her friendship, she was happy to give it to him. 

Explaining the nature of their relationship to other people was more difficult than she expected, though. She didn’t advertise exactly how often the two of them were hanging out, but her friends put it together pretty quickly when Rey, who usually replied to texts instantly, started taking hours to respond...and those delays became a nearly-nightly occurrence. 

A few nights after her driving faux pas with Ben, Rey and Rose were enjoying some well-earned end-of-the-week drinks, with a sadly-sober, on-call Paige watching in via FaceTime, when her friends finally launched the inquiry Rey had been expecting and dreading in equal measure.

“So you’ve been hanging out with that fake boyfriend of yours a lot, and I haven’t seen a word about it online.” Rey wondered where Paige found time to keep that arched eyebrow so perfectly plucked, much less troll gossip sites.

“Paige, I know I said at the beginning that Ben was big into the PR stuff, but honestly, I don’t think I could have been more wrong. I already told you before that the Twitter stuff was all Poe. I think Ben kind of got pressured into going along with inviting me to the premiere; he didn’t even know about any of it until it had already happened. I think he just wanted to meet me so it wouldn’t be more awkward than it had to be.” Rey smiled to herself. “I cannot  _ begin _ to imagine Ben doing anything with a total stranger, especially something so public like that. He’d be a total wreck.”

“And how exactly does the fake dating thing factor in? If your fake-slash-real boyfriend is so PR-phobic?” Perhaps technology had advanced too far. Rey not only heard the skepticism in Paige’s voice as if she were in the room with them, she also saw it etched on her friend’s face in perfectly-crisp detail.

Rey elected to ignore Paige referring to Ben as her ‘fake-slash-real boyfriend’ and instead responded to the question at hand.’ “Well, Poe must have convinced Ben to make the best out of a bad situation, right? Since he was already going to have to take someone to the premiere, and since he’d need to get to know them before that for his own sanity, why not pretend to date them and get some publicity out of that?” It had taken her a while to puzzle that out, but now it seemed obvious. 

Apparently, the Ticos were running a tag-team, because Rose piped up then. “Right, and how exactly do you explain why it looks like real dating, again?”

“Well, I guess we kind of hit it off”-she knew she’d failed miserably at keeping the fondness out of her voice-”and...I know it sounds sort of strange, since he’s super popular, right? but I think he’s really lonely. The only other person he really mentions spending time with is his manager. That’s gotta be weird, right, for your closest friend to be on your payroll? He’s just a pretty private person, so I think it’s hard for him to open up to new people.”

“Oh yeah,” the younger Tico sister interjected sarcastically, “I definitely get the sense that it takes a long time for Ben to warm up to people from the way he’s blowing up your phone since you’ve been apart for, what, twenty-four hours now?”

Since she had only left his house after falling asleep on his couch last night, it was more like twenty, but Rey wasn’t going to admit that. 

“He could probably tell I was uncomfortable with the idea of publicity, so that reassured him. And like I said, he seems lonely. I think he just wants a friend.” 

Paige’s tender heart was her ally here; the idea of Ben’s isolation diverted her focus. “That’s so sad.”

While Rose was compassionate too, she kept her eyes on the prize. “But if he’s so lonely, why don’t you think he has a girlfriend, Rey?”

“I think it’s a Catch-22. It’s hard for him to get to know people because he’s so reserved, and the sort of girl who would willingly date someone as famous as he is before getting to know him isn’t the sort of girl he’d be interested in. Ben wouldn’t be happy with someone who would date him because he’s famous; he should be with someone who’ll date him despite that.”

Both sisters looked as sad for Ben as Rey felt, but a mischievous expression quickly crossed Rose’s face.

“So you’re spending all this time with that specimen of a man, who by your own admission, is very lonely, you’re precisely the type of girl who would be perfect for him, and you’re telling me you’re just friends?”

“Yes, Rose.” Rey chose not to acknowledge that the sharp edge in her voice might have more to do with frustration at the situation than Rose’s prodding.

“So there aren’t any lingering touches?” Paige asked.

Too many and still not enough, she thought. Ben was always pulling her close, gently chafing her arms to warm her, which only made her goosebumps worse, and brushing her hair from her face, but it didn’t mean anything. She’d just explained to Rose how few close relationships he had. Was it any surprise he was touch-starved? He never took things further than cuddling on the couch, and just because it made her heart race, it didn’t mean he had an ulterior motive. She didn’t respond, but both sisters looked as if they could read her thoughts.

Rose picked up the thread. “You’re telling me you don’t know if he smells as good as he looks?” 

Rey regularly had to actively resist burying her face in the spot where Ben’s neck met his shoulder. Not wanting to outright lie, she settled for making a non-committal noise.

Now it was Paige’s turn. “And you haven’t thought about him shirtless except when you watched that Episode XIII clip?”

Rey felt her blush and knew she was screwed even before the shrieks started in stereo.

At least she had an explanation. “Ben runs hot, okay! And he noticed that I’m cold all the time, so he turned up the temperature, but then he was overheated, so he took off his shirt. He was just being practical!”

Paige snorted. “You’re telling me that instead of getting you a blanket or lending you a sweatshirt, he cranked up the temperature in his apartment and then walked around shirtless?”

“Listen, I know what you’re thinking, but this actually makes my point. He wouldn’t be so casual about stuff like that if he thought of me as more than a friend, right? Like, I’ve mentioned that I’ve had boyfriends in the past so he knows I’m into men, and he knows that I’m not dating anyone, and we’re together, in the privacy of his home, all the time. If he liked me, all he would have to do is turn his head on any night we’re hanging out on his couch, and we’d be kissing.”

“So you  _ have _ thought about it!” Rose crowed.

“Rose. You’ve seen him.  _ Of course, _ I’ve thought about it.” Rey tried to hold her deadpan expression but failed completely, and they all dissolved into peals of laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your encouragement! I plan to post the next chapter Saturday.
> 
> In the meantime, I’d love it if you gave my other Reylo WIP a shot – singers pretending to date for publicity purposes, really groundbreaking stuff 😉 but it’s effectively my ode to stan culture, chapters are short, and updates will be daily (or more often if the chapter is especially short). Check it out [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20853818/chapters/49571339)


	5. Chapter 5

If anything, Rey spent even more time with Ben over the next few weeks. While most of it was spent snuggled together on his couch—a form of torture she wouldn’t give up for the world—he asked one of his co-stars, a woman named Phasma, whose commitment to maintaining the split between her public and private lives exceeded even Ben's, for ideas of things they could do together without risking scrutiny. 

It felt like a ridiculous splurge when he rented out a hole-in-the-wall karaoke bar for the night so that they could go out with friends and some trusted Rogue One and  _ Galaxy Wars _ co-workers, but Rey had too much fun singing along with Rose and Finn, getting to know Poe, and exchanging smiles with Ben to feel guilty about it for long.

Perhaps the highlight of the night was seeing Cassian get some of his own medicine. Ben had continued sending flowers to her office every week until she confessed how merciless she was being teased for it, at which point Ben directed the deliveries to her home.

If she hadn’t known, unequivocally, that Ben paid attention to everything she said and never would have forgotten a detail like the relationship between her bosses, she would have fallen for his act; he really was in the right line of work.

“Ben, I wanted to introduce you to Jyn and Cassian Andor.”

“It’s so good to finally meet you! But Rey didn’t mention you’re siblings!”

They both looked baffled.

“Siblings? Where did you get that idea?” Jyn asked. Ben started to say something about their shared last name before Jyn interrupted him. “No, no, we’re not siblings. We're married.”

Ben appeared taken aback. “Married? But Rey told me Cassian was shocked that I was sending her flowers. I assumed he just didn't have anyone in his life to send them to, but now that I've met you– Well, it must have been a long time since he’s sent you flowers if he’s managed to forget that beautiful women should have beautiful things.”

Jyn and Cassian had always seemed skeptical of Rey’s insistence that she and Ben were simply friends, even though the notes accompanying the flowers were those of a friend; Ben always wrote about how much he enjoyed her company and appreciated the time they spent together. They were definitely going to get the wrong impression from Ben implying he thought she was her beautiful just to make his point, but seeing the way Jyn’s eyes narrowed as her gaze settled on Cassian, it was without question worth it.

When Jyn responded, her voice was deadly calm; how it managed to carry over the racket Poe was making on stage was a mystery Rey hoped the older woman would someday explain to her. “You know, I’m not sure if you can call it forgetting if it’s something he apparently never learned. What do you think, Ben?”

“I’m sure I couldn’t say.” Ben looked the picture of innocence, but Rey caught a brief quirk of his lips. Fortunately, both of them held it together long enough to slip away while a panicked Cassian tried to convince Jyn that his failure to buy her flowers was in no way a reflection of his love for her.

“God, Ben, I could”– _ kiss you right now, _ Rey wanted to say, but that held too much truth–“I could give you an award for that performance.”

The pleased smile that broke across his face at that confirmed her choice; the simplest words of praise from her meant so much to him. She wouldn’t ruin their friendship by asking for more.

* * *

He was nervous. Poe would have told him not to be. Phasma might have been more understanding. It was just that he wanted to give Rey enough time to be sure being in a public relationship with him was worth the invasion of privacy that would inevitably follow, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to talk to either of his friends about it. He just didn’t feel like it was something he should discuss with anyone before he spoke with her.

Despite having rehearsed the conversation endlessly in his head—in his distraction, he'd mixed up his shampoo and body wash not once, but three times that week—he still hadn’t worked out how exactly to start. The fact that she was tucked in his arms while they pretended—or at least  _ he _ pretended—to look for something to watch didn’t help matters. He could never think straight with her so close, but he couldn’t keep putting this off.

“So, you know how I’m starting press for the movie soon?” Rey made a distracted noise of assent. “Poe reminded me that I’m going to get questions about my relationship status, so I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“Oh?” He could hear tension in Rey’s voice, but one word wasn't enough to reveal her feelings. He admitted, though, that it wasn’t fair for him to expect her to make her preferences known when he hadn’t said anything. He had no problem letting her set the pace in terms of their physical relationship—he’d meant it when he said he wanted her to be the driver of that—but he unequivocally wanted to let the world know he was with her.

“It’s up to you, but I would really like to tell people that you’re my girlfriend.”

He didn't want to reveal exactly how much it would mean to him; it felt like that would be unfair to her, so he thought of the least significant reason possible to come out as a couple. “It would be great to finally be able to get the interviewers off my back,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t want to pressure you, though. I’m already in the spotlight, but it would change things for you. And if you’re not up for it, I’m more than happy keeping things as they are. It would be really nice to have you with me at events and things like that, but I love just hanging out together like this.”

He saw the indecision on her face. It wasn’t unexpected, but his heart sank. He wasn’t selfless enough to tell her to forget it, but he managed to suggest she not give him an answer until she thought it over. Her tremulous smile at that didn’t give him much hope.

He thought his expectations were already low, but the next day, a text message from Rey shattered his heart in two sentences:  _ I’m so sorry, Ben. I don’t think we should see each other any more. _

He didn’t remember the drive to her apartment. It didn’t occur to him that she might not be home until he was frantically knocking at her door. He was fairly certain it was a Saturday, but he’d left his phone somewhere—maybe in his car, maybe at home—so he couldn't check. Even if he was right about the day, had she said something about weekend plans with Finn? He couldn’t remember, he just needed to see her, apologize for pushing her. He’d settle for– no, not settle for, he’d  _ treasure _ the relationship they had and never ask her for more, if only she’d take him back.

When she opened the door, seeing her splotchy face and hearing his name in her watery voice were the worst condemnation. He’d hurt the woman he loved; he’d done the very thing he’d promised himself he wouldn't do—pushed her to go faster than she was comfortable with.

“Can I come in? Please, Rey? I know I don’t deserve it, but please, please, let me apologize.”

It was hard to process anything, but he thought she seemed confused. Did she really think he would let their relationship implode without at least trying to make things right?

“Ben, what are you talking about? Of course, come in, but I'm the one who should be apologizing. I know it wasn’t fair to tell you what I did by text, but I, I didn’t know how to face you.”

His heart wrenched; he couldn’t imagine how she’d found a way to blame herself for any of this. “Rey–”

“Please, I need to get this out.” She swallowed. “You’re amazing, Ben. Perfect, really. And I...I love spending time with you.”

He couldn’t help himself. “I love spending time with you, too, Rey”–but he winced at having cut her off–“sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t interrupt you again.”

“Thanks. This is...so hard. From the beginning, you’ve been clear with me. I know it was Poe’s idea for us to do the whole fake dating for PR reasons, but you were so careful with my feelings; before we even met, you made sure I didn't get 'the wrong impression', and you told me that you had to be careful about what you said in public, because people might be listening, so that I would know to take anything you said in front of other people with a grain of salt.”

She smiled weakly. He understood the words she was saying, but they made no sense put together like that.

“But we got to be friends, and I thought you had scrapped the whole fake dating idea. You were careful to never put us in a situation where we might be seen together. So I was caught off-guard last night when you asked if you could tell people we were dating. I know how great it would be for you to have a friend with you at those events you hate and not be grilled about why you aren’t dating or hear speculation about who you might be dating, and Ben, I really wish I could do that for you.”

He loved her smiles, treasured each one, but the watery smile she gave him then was heart-rending.

“And if I was a better friend, I could just– just do that. But Ben, I can’t.”

When she left his house last night, he’d realized they were on different pages, but he’d told himself he could live with that. Now, he realized they hadn’t even been reading the same book. He adored her. Hated to go a day without seeing her. No matter how close she was, he wanted her closer. And she– she thought of them as friends. Of course, she  _ was _ his friend, but he’d thought they were so much more than that.

She continued before he could respond. “I can’t stand in front of the world and pretend to date you when that’s–”

He’d been so lost in his own feelings that it was only when she bit back a sob that he saw the tears streaming down her face. He realized with horror that the mere idea of being paired with him was literally bringing her to tears. He wished he could gather her in his arms, but he realized, despairingly, that he'd only be bringing himself comfort, not her. At the very least, he could save them both the pain of hearing her explain that she didn't see him that way, that she never would. 

“Rey, please, you don’t have to say anything else, I understand. I’m sorry, so sorry, that I brought it up.” 

But he couldn't leave it there. “Can we– Rey, please tell me we can still be friends.”

Her chin trembled. “I’m sorry, Ben,” and he could hear in her voice that she truly was, “but I don’t think I can do that.”

He knew now why it was called an out-of-body experience; he’d just lost the best thing he’d ever known, but like someone coming to after a horrific crash, a bizarre sort of detachment shielded him from having to process the gruesome wreckage around him. He might have been grateful for it, had the disconnect not been preventing his body from getting the message that  _ Rey needs her space, you’re not going to be able to keep it together for much longer, for god’s sake, just leave _ . 

Smallest of mercies, Rey didn’t seem to notice his struggle as he stood frozen in place. 

She gave him a bittersweet smile. “It’s stupid isn’t it? I want to give you everything, Ben, but the only thing you want from me is the one thing it hurts me too much to give. But I guess love makes us all stupid, doesn’t it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Chryss, Grammar Witch Extraordinaire, for sweeping up behind my spelling and grammar lapses ❤️


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the rating change from M to E; if that's not your cup of tea, stop when hit your comfort level, and skip ahead to "She huffed out a laugh"

Love makes us all stupid. _ Love _makes us all stupid. ** _Love _**makes us all stupid. 

Rey’s words kept replaying in his head, but there had been too many misunderstandings. He didn’t know how he’d survive if this was another one.

“Are you– Rey, are you saying you love me?”

“I know you don’t feel the same way, Ben. I know you don’t see me that way.” She sniffed and laughed quietly. “To be fair, I really did try.” Her smile was sincere but achingly sad. “It’s just– it was impossible for me, not to love you.”

There were no words that could describe how it made him feel to hear her say that, no words that could come close. 

But Rey—_ his _ Rey, he could call her that now—somehow didn’t know his world revolved around her, or else she wouldn’t be looking at him as if she felt– well, as if she felt as devastated as he had moments ago. So he had to try to find a way to put his feelings for her into words.

“Rey, I don’t know how long you’ve”–it was still hard to believe she loved him, and impossible to acknowledge directly, so soon after his world had shifted, so he settled for a vague reference–“how long you’ve felt that way, but from the moment I heard your voice, I couldn’t get you out of my head.” He felt the corners of his mouth tug up in a grin thinking about the way she’d upended his life. “By the time you walked away from me that first day at the cafe, I was gone for you.” 

His smile turned soft. “I’m not sure how I messed it up so badly, but Rey, I _ never _ meant to give you the impression that anything I’ve said or done with you has been an act.”

He hadn’t consciously moved towards her, but now that she was close enough to touch, he couldn’t resist reaching out to take her hands in his. It was a strange sort of relief to realize he wasn’t the only one shaking, and even the slight connection—just the feel of her hands in his, solid and real—was enough to ground him. He took a steadying breath. 

“Last night, I asked you if I could tell the world we were dating because I thought we _were_. And I gave you stupid excuses about why I wanted to go public, because I thought my feelings for you were so obvious, and I didn’t want you to feel pressured to reciprocate if you weren’t there yet.”

They were just inches apart now, and though it tore at him to see the tear tracks on her face, the hope shining in her eyes pushed him to continue. “It’s hard for me to believe you didn’t realize how much I love you, but if you let me, Rey, I’ll spend every day making it impossible for you to forget it. Because I do– I love you so damn much.”

Eyes filled with tears, she whispered his name, and he expected her to have questions, expected they’d have a soul-searching discussion to figure out how they’d misunderstood each other so completely.

Rey had other ideas.

* * *

He loved her. So damn much, he’d said. Discussing how they’d gotten their wires crossed could wait—although she would really like to understand how he thought he was dating a woman he’d never so much as kissed.

Speaking of.

She surged towards him, her hands on his shoulders giving her the leverage she needed to catch his mouth with her own. The rasp of his lips against hers set her head spinning, and even with his arms encircling her waist to anchor her in place, she felt herself swaying as things like muscle memory and gravity deserted her.

She knew he was built. After all, she’d spent all those nights curled up next to him on his couch, resting her cheek against the hard planes of his chest, his muscled arm wrapped around her. More often than not, he’d been shirtless, having cranked the temperature up for her sake—and alright, thinking back on that, she could see why Ben might have thought they were more than friends. It had been difficult enough, then, to keep her head. It was impossible to do so now, when her nerves were crowing in primal delight over the broadness of Ben’s shoulders, the solidity of his chest, the way he towered over her, and the delicious contrast between all that hardness and his achingly-soft kisses.

She was almost frantic with the need for more, faster, now. She ran her tongue along the seam of his lips, thinking to urge him on, but while he accepted the invitation to deepen their kiss, he seemed to feel none of her urgency. When she’d fantasized about this happening—because, _ of course, _ she had—she’d imagined both of them lost in the moment, swept away. But while she was barely hanging on, Ben seemed unshaken. 

She couldn’t hold back the helpless whimper that escaped her, and he broke their kiss to offer a hushed reassurance. “I’m here, Rey, I’m right here.” 

On the surface, his words didn't quite make sense—of course, he was there—but they were exactly the reminder she needed. Because this moment wasn’t a product of her imagination; he was really here, this was really happening. There was no need to a race against time before the illusion ended—and if the slow trail of kisses Ben was leaving down her neck was a hint of what was to come, he certainly planned to savor every second.

Still, there were better locations for savoring than her living room. When she led him to her bedroom, she fell in love with Ben a little more as she watched his reactions play out on his expressive face. He looked like someone who understood the concept of a gift but had never received one before. His face blazed with ‘Yes,’ and ‘Please,’ and ‘Thank you,’ all at once, tempered with a hint of uncertainty—as if he were scared to let himself feel too happy, for fear it would be taken away. She knew the feeling.

Each time she peeled off an article of clothing, the expression of awe returned. And although she would never, never, get tired of that look, it was even better to erase that hint of uncertainty in his eyes; to know that, like her, he was letting himself accept his good fortune, even if it still stunned him. To be able to tell him, with touch and teeth and tongue, what he’d told her; both the words he’d said aloud—_ I’m right here _ —and the ones that had gone unspoken— _ I’m not going anywhere._

When he slid home, it felt like a piece of her did too. For as long as she could remember, the very concept of _home _hurt, because she thought she’d never have one of her own. In Ben’s arms, though, she realized it wasn’t a place that had been missing, but a person. Someone who would look at her the way he did now, like nothing in the world could give him the happiness she did, like nothing in the world mattered to him but her. Someone who loved her as fiercely and irrevocably and utterly as she loved him.

Ben’s thoughts must not have been far from hers, because he gazed down into her eyes, a helpless smile on his face, before repeating the words they’d said to each other so many times since their first confession less than an hour ago. “Rey, I love you so much.”

She felt a matching smile blaze across her face as she looked up at him. “So much, Ben,” she echoed, before reaching up to kiss him, causing him to shift, somehow, more deeply inside her and them both to groan in satisfaction. 

He began to move in her, and even though she was divinely full of him, just barely on the right side of _too much, _ all she could think was how to have more of him—because she didn’t want to have to choose between carding her fingers through his silky hair or gripping his broad shoulders. She needed his mouth, so wicked and yet so sweet, on hers, but he kept discovering new spots she didn’t want him to leave. She felt an almost irresistible urge to lock her legs around him to pull him closer, deeper, but the drag of his thick cock, in and out, felt more crucial than the movement of air through her lungs. Restraining his movements would be downright criminal, so she writhed into him. 

His deliberate pace might have been mistaken for teasing if it weren’t for his adoring smile, an almost-boyish expression that had her surging up to capture his lips. But as much as she wanted to keep kissing him, maybe until the end of time, the feeling of pleasure building from her core demanded all her attention. 

She didn’t know, and frankly didn’t care, whether it was her words—his name had become a chant on her lips, plea and praise at once—or her body’s response to him—she doubted his “Fuck, you’re so _tight _and _wet _for me” had been meant for her ears—but he finally, _ finally _began to fuck her in earnest. Every stroke hit just right, and it felt like only seconds before she was on the edge.

When he shifted his weight, bracing himself on one forearm, and whispered between kisses he pressed into her neck, “Is this good?,” she didn’t know exactly what he was referring to, but since it was already the best sexual experience of her life, she was very prepared to voice her assent. But then he moved his other hand to brush a finger—his thumb?—against her clit, and she felt electrified. 

Her string of “Yes, yes, Holy _ God, _ fuck _yes” _ transformed from an answer to his question to a nearly-incoherent expression of encouragement as he alternated the pattern of his hand’s movements—sometimes exactly where she wanted it, sometimes just shy of where she needed it, and she felt her balance at the brink falter. Time stopped mattering as he fucked into her. For the first time ever, she tried _not _to come for as long as she could, not wanting this feeling of pure and utter bliss to end before it absolutely had to. Finally, she couldn’t hold out any longer, and she came and came and _came,_ a full-body experience, and she was only peripherally aware of Ben’s strangled groan as he followed her.

It took a long moment before she came back to herself enough to realize he’d collapsed on top of her, and his warm weight felt like the most comforting blanket—but her sleepy satisfaction was shattered when he twitched inside her, setting off a wave of aftershocks.

“More? With my mouth?” Ben whispered, and she’d swear he sounded hopeful.

“Are you trying to kill me?” she gasped out, still trembling around him.

She could hear the smile in his voice when he replied. “Pretty sure I’ve already died and gone to heaven, so maybe it’s not a bad idea to have you join me.”

She huffed out a laugh, still trying to recover her breath. “How about we stay together in the land of the living?”

He hummed into her neck. “Together? I like the sound of that.”

* * *

* * *

Walking the red carpet with Rey at his side was– well, honestly, it still wasn’t his thing. These events never stopped feeling like a performance for which he was hopelessly under-rehearsed, desperately wishing there was someone he could ask for his line. But she certainly had a way of keeping his mind off of his anxiety.

He was a gentleman. He would not spend the photo line thinking about how desperately he wanted to get Rey out of the gown she was wearing. Because he loved her. Because he respected her. And primarily because his suit pants concealed absolutely nothing, as she’d been delighted to discover on the limo ride over.

The problem was his hand. Specifically, that there was no safe place to put it. Because her dress, her blessed, cursed dress, left nearly every inch of her back exposed, and the way she shivered and looked into his eyes when he lightly rested his hand there– well, that wasn’t sustainable.

And slightly lower, just slightly, might have been fine. Her ass—her butt? Was that the more respectful way to think about the woman you loved?—however he thought about it, it was spectacular. Transcendent. He wasn’t good with coming up with words on his own, but he could go on at great length about the perfection of Rey’s squeezable, biteable, spankable– right, enough thoughts about that while in camera range. Anyway, there was a spot just low enough to be covered by fabric but high enough to not be entirely indecent. And he might have been able to keep his thoughts off where, exactly, his hand was, if it hadn’t been for her texts that morning.

** Rey:** Did you know there’s you-themed lingerie?

** Rey:** Well, technically Kylo-themed. Things like “Force choke me, Daddy”

Reading that, he’d choked on his tea, no force intervention necessary. 

** Rey:** I even found ones that you can have personalized to say whatever you want, spelled out in rhinestones

** Rey:** I’ll assume you haven’t replied because you’re overcome with gratitude that I didn’t tweet about any of this 😉

At that, he finally managed a reply.

** Ben: **You’re going to be the death of me

** Rey: 😂**

** Rey: **I love you too

If she’d intended to distract him from his usual pre-red carpet routine—working himself into a state of borderline panic over the crowds and scrutiny he’d face—it had worked perfectly; he’d spent the rest of the day trying, and failing, to think of anything other than what she might have found, whether she’d been teasing or had actually ordered something, whether it would be too weird if _he _ordered something, and if it wasn’t too weird, what he’d most like to see displayed on her ass.

When they’d arrived at the premiere, though, he’d realized that while Rey was almost certainly not joking about the existence of themed lingerie—the wall of sound that hit him as they exited the limo demonstrated how rabid some fans were for anything having to do with Kylo—it was ridiculous to think she would have purchased any for herself. She vibrated with excitement when she caught sight of his co-star; his girlfriend was far more invested in Kira’s storyline than Kylo’s.

So while he’d convinced himself that she wasn’t wearing anything out-of-the-ordinary underneath the dress that was driving him to distraction, when he rested his hand just south of the small of her back and felt a strange pattern of bumps through the fabric of her gown, his brain hiccupped. Something in his expression must have given him away, because she laughed up at him, and he lost himself in her eyes before being temporarily blinded by a flurry of camera flashes.

“Finally noticed, have you?” she asked.

He couldn’t keep looking at her coy little smile. Not when he was wearing suit pants that hid nothing and there were literally dozens of photographers surrounding them. So he turned back to the cameras they were supposed to be posing for and, moving his mouth as little as possible, sought the information he knew would only make his situation more precarious. 

“Is that– what did– what–”

She giggled, setting off another flurry of photos, and then they were ushered down the line.

“Maybe you should tell me what you’re hoping they say so we can see how well I did?” she suggested, a teasing lilt coloring her voice.

When he groaned out her name, it drew another laugh from her, but she took mercy on him.

“Well, I thought of a few different options. But I kept coming back to one thing.” She paused and he looked down to see a soft smile on her face. “I’m yours.”

It wasn’t the first time she’d said it like that, but he still found himself swallowing down emotion. Something about it felt more grand, more permanent, somehow than simply saying _ I love you. _ Because _ I love you _didn’t necessarily mean _ I couldn’t live without you. _ It wasn’t the same thing as saying _ I’ll never leave you. _ It didn’t say _without you, there’s no me. _Every time he told Rey he was hers, it felt like he was saying all that and more. And from the way she looked at him when he said the words, the emotion in her voice when she said them to him– well, he thought she felt the same.

But surely, surely, she had not intended for him to get sentimental over the custom lingerie she’d ordered. And he did have every intention of absolutely devouring her when they had some privacy later that night. But when he traced the lettering just barely discernible through her dress and realized she wore his last name against her skin, it was his heart, not his hormones, that responded.

Because he’d told himself it was too soon for his grandmother’s ring...although that hadn’t stopped him from asking his mother to retrieve it for him. Hadn’t stopped him from spending far too much time looking at it. Far too much time thinking about how much better it would look on Rey’s hand than in the box. And it was still too soon. But...until he could get her out of her clothes, she had his name. Maybe he wouldn’t need to wait quite as long as he’d thought to ask her to take it on a more permanent basis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it! Thank you so much for sticking with this story, and if you read while it was a WIP, please accept my deepest apologies for taking so long to complete it—if it's any consolation, not a single day went by between updates when I did not feel abjectly awful for not posting. I hope you enjoyed this; if so, I have a few other fics I'd love it if you checked out.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love it if you left a comment or said hi on Twitter; I'm [@elle_vee_reads](https://twitter.com/elle_vee_reads/)


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